


love language

by jbaecob



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Idols, Bathing/Washing, Established Relationship, Lowercase, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Self-Indulgent, Sort Of, but that's hardly important here, jacob is sadly blond here, stressed sangyeon, the plot is strange but it's there?, they're slowly working on it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-05-20 16:19:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19380313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbaecob/pseuds/jbaecob
Summary: the reason behind sangyeon's mopey attitude is fairly simple.





	love language

**Author's Note:**

> hi it's literally 6 am while i type this very beginning note. also i think it's valid to point out that i was inspired by sangyeon's greasy hair in those 190624 airport pics. very important
> 
> *makes jacob blond in the fic so it's less self-indulgent*

the reason behind sangyeon's mopey attitude is fairly simple.

he's lucky that jacob seems to catch up quickly, which is kinda the achievement. it doesn't mean that he's going to act upon that realization as quickly, though. when, in a objectively rainy day, sangyeon arrives home from the convenience store, he's beyond relieved to find the apartment quiet. it's less complicated to stomp in when there's someone who's watching and who's perfectly capable to judge him before even asking if everything is okay. it's just fine, he'd say. unless it's been roughy five days since jacob had so quickly grabbed his hand under the table that he's fated to think it was a feverish dream; they haven't talked about it since, and jacob looks, sounds and acts like nothing in the world could bug him less. which it's fine, because minor inconformities are made to stay minor and never bother. it was during packed weeks, between too much to do and too little time for doing so. sangyeon was nearly busting a vein on his temple when jacob's eyes pierced every single corner of his soul (gently, for they're round and brown and welcoming). he shakes his head and the cold drops of rain tickle his skin.

jacob, sadly or not, is the one who comes to the kitchen when he's storing the groceries whilst trying to be the most graceful fairy. if jacob's expression says anything (and it hardly ever does), he's far from succeeding.

"did the rain get you?" he asked, knowing very well that sangyeon's drenched hair was definitely not from pure sweat. just when sangyeon was about to look over his shoulder, jacob chirps, "i- i've prepared a bath." then he stops mid motion and almost drops a can of tuna. "i don't remember if you like warm baths that much but i guessed- because of the rain..."

sangyeon resumes his work and before retracting to put away the plastic bags, he looks at every single corner of jacob's expression that's particularly not his eyes and mutters, "thank you."

it's strange when he says nothing, a tiny smile barely stretching his angled lips, but sangyeon guesses it feels more natural for them to be like that. it isn't bad; he is, was since ever, and forever will be, a sure twenty percent awkward around the boy. he doesn't know why- he can't exactly pinpoint if it's the random displays of affection or the diminute voice. it has to be something with the clashing personalities - sangyeon fighting to remind himself that around jacob he's supposed to be an anchor, a pilar of some sort, and jacob slowly (but surely) fixating himself in the paradox of being the second oldest but also the one with strategically childish mannerisms. it isn't who he is as a whole; the definition would cut him into little parts and forgo the absolute madness that is the unit.

not long after jacob is gone, his cold feet pretend to stomp out of the kitchen and, after thinking twice, he goes to the bathroom where his warm bath is supposedly in. for the record, he doesn't know why there was a part of himself that refused to believe that jacob had actually made it. why would he joke about it so seriously?

honestly? sangyeon doesn't know. was he capable of it? hell yes.

he opens the door slowly, mind racing for some reason, and when he stops to pay attention to his thoughts they're all "please let there be a warm bath please let there be a warm bath". he gets nervous when all the thinking gets the words twisted and he ends up wishing that jacob was inside the tub when he got there but, luckily? sadly? obviously? jacob wasn't there. he closed the door with his foot, hands already at the hem of his sweat shirt, maniacally eyeing everything up and down only to realize that there was nothing strange. nothing out of place. just a friendly warm bath and shampoo and a towel and even his favorite pj's. oh. the baby blue ones. by the time he's stripped out of his underwear and heading towards the water, he feels a little something overwhelming the left side of his chest. and, he isn't sure, but the liquid that prickles his eyes and make them look too glossy may come from the way they didn't have to exchange one single word. not even before the hands-under-the-table incident; hell, sangyeon wasn't even aware that his level of distress was that palpable. he's glad that jacob could read it too (which probably means he wasn't the only one. jacob is all sorts of smart, but he can come off as dull as sangyeon himself when it comes to sense people's energy and low key body language).

sangyeon almost drowns himself when he crouches down so much that the only parts of his body that are off water are his forehead and nose. when he finally relaxes his body, it feels like a strange mix of lifting off things from his shoulder and letting the weight of the water take him down at the same time. it feels divine, nevertheless. the temperature is just above lukewarm; enough to notice that it isn't going cold anytime soon but it doesn't feel like it's going to peel your skin off when you finally decide step out. for a good five minutes he doesn't move. he barely remembers what having a bath means, because he doesn't want to grab soap and start scrubbing himself clean. he just doesn't want to exist for a few moments. because the reason behind his fairly mopey attitude was very simple, but still prompted him to act like a four year old that was denied a hug (just because his little hands were clammy and sticky with melted sweets).

two knocks on the door makes him jolt slightly. "it's open." he mutters just high enough, sticking more of his body out of the water to look at who's coming. he shouldn't be surprised by his instincts being exact.

it hurts to say the least, because now it really feels like the reason behind all of this is too stupid. but the barely stretchable smile on jacob's face is still there and it's still silently wishing for sangyeon to say the minimum. it's what he does. it's what he always does when he's with jacob, it's true, because jacob's usually one to talk like he'll never be able to in the next ten minutes.

but now he says nothing, never answers to sangyeon's frown when instead of using the toilet or grabbing something or, for fuck's sake, doing anything that's not grab the bottle of shampoo and sit by the edge of the tub, he does exactly the latter. because, yes, that's pretty much something jacob would do. sangyeon doesn't like to address every single "quirky" personality trait to jacob just because it feel somewhat right to; but he seems to live for making himself fit in them just perfectly. sangyeon goes along with it. he doesn't even remember to fold his legs naturally, so he doesn't expose himself like that for nothing. jacob's not looking. jacob is too busy spreading shampoo that faintly smells like lemon and sage (but sangyeon is far from sure) on his hands. sangyeon dares to look up when jacob first touches his hair. he dares to fight the urge to close his eyes just to have the pleasure to have them open; even with the menacing foam bordering his eyes, jacob's ministrations pushing them to every side. he looks too concentrated on delicately rubbing the tip of his fingers on sangyeon's scalp to notice the way his eyes are still looking up and the foam is about to stop him from making himself look stupid.

at this point, he's far from preoccupied. he must _have_ looked stupid enough when he said "it's open" instead of "who's there?", or something, when jacob knocked earlier. having the weirdest sense of the way the time walks, it feels like the insistently blond has been running his fingers through sangyeon's hair for hours, and that the knocking happened a day ago. but that should probably be just his tired mind not knowing anything for sure. jacob stops scrubbing and gently pats the top of his head. again, wordlessly, he conveys one sentence. then, he hears from near behind him, jacob's ready to rinse the ridiculous amount of foam off his hair.

then, it downs on him that he never really showered. so while jacob is, luckily, very focused on his new task, sangyeon grabs the soap and starts slowly, as not to agitate the water while doing it, rubbing it on his arms and belly. too afraid to go lower, though. he might have to wait for jacob to release him from his sweet torture, because he's still very much engrossed in spraying water on his scalp and sometimes his forehead. he carefully rubs around his ears, making sangyeon's hands flabby, taking time to make sure there's no foam left in any corner. sangyeon is, from the beginning, forcing himself to not dwell too much in the feeling of another hand doing what he's used to do; because it feels out of place but, painfully, at the same time, it doesn't. because somewhere between the formal thoughts and the borderline catastrophic ones, he understands this as a rational attitude. the human being is rational above all things - if a warm, lovely and throughout thought bath is given, then might as well help with the casual nuisances. right? all very rational.

jacob clears his throat out of nowhere. "the water isn't too hot, right?" before waiting for a response, his fingers are already knuckle deep in the turvy water (sangyeon realizes that, happily spreading the soap bar further down his legs). "it's lukewarm," he concludes, forearm hanging from the slippy edge. sangyeon is too busy folding his legs to reach his foot to notice jacob's hands once again claiming his hair as if he just couldn't stop. this time is to squish the water out of it, delicate yet forceful - it somehow reminding him the way that jacob deals with things and others. he refuses to acknowledge that as a valid parallel -; sangyeon remembers how long his hair looks before jacob comments, "do you like your hair long?" with the most endearing, less than nearly saccharine tone. he drops the soap with a _bloop_.

"yeah." he finally closes his eyes after a particularly good tug, that makes his toes curl and his hands search for the lost soap with alarm. "did- is it done?" he asks abruptly. jacob pats his head again.

"no, i'll dry it," he tighten his lips when sangyeon's eyes look up after a considerably long time. "i mean, can i?" his voice is small and almost too frail, but he's already grabbing a hand towel (and his eyes are smiling), directioning it towards sangyeon's head. his "uhh" is muffled and the bathroom is silent again. despite having the loudest fucking mind, the only thing he can make up is the strange sound of the fabric rubbing against his head, which he never pays attention to when he's the one doing it. he starts to get slightly cold by the time jacob's skilled fingers start pushing his hair back again, accommodating it behind his ears (it prickles like hell, but he stays quiet). he appreciates everything, tries to savour it to the fullest; yet, jacob seems like he's always ready to give a little more, to show a little more. 

then, the hand poised behind his head slips to his nape. a breath gets caught in sangyeon's throat. he wishes to have the courage to look up, because last time that happened he kinda didn't. he is cold already, but now another matter disrupts his senses, and it's not as easy as stepping out of the water and wrapping himself in a clean towel. it's more humanly shaped than he cares to admit. it urges him to look up (he stops trying to find the poor soap) - so he does. regret is never the word; not when it involves jacob.

jacob makes everything lose all purport, and at the same time, imprinting new ones to it.

jacob leans in when sangyeon is too busy reading the vertical lines on his dry lips. the angle of sangyeon's head is starting to get annoying, but jacob's lips grabs the attention from it. he briefly breathes through his nose before diving in; it's quiet and theirs, well-thought but spontaneous. it's unique because, from the sparsely chances, jacob always surprises him with a strange placed lick. he knows it comes from the heart, but it doesn't stop him from slamming his previously submerged hand on jacob's shirt; he laughs into the kiss, their lips rumbling briefly from the disturbance. sangyeon is half wanting to lean his back against the tub and never get up again and half wishing for the other towel so he can get up already.

jacob doesn't truly get away from his lips. notwithstanding, mindful of the rapidly cooling water, he reaches out blindly to grant sangyeon's next wish. it's probably disfunctional how they had managed to get up with their lips still locked, while sangyeon splashed water everywhere in his attempt on stepping out of the tub without falling, trying to wrap a towel down his hips. but somehow they do. and sangyeon is thrilled to have all that warmth leaning heavily against his body again when jacob attaches himself to him so easily, like he was made for that. like they were made to mold - like jacob was crafted carefully so he would know when to and where to and how to. like there wouldn't be no need to dive into the incomprehensible world of the words and sentences misheard, misunderstood. like even after spending some (needed?) time away, he knows exactly where he most belongs to. 

it's easier like that, he concludes. jacob's head feels perfect in the crook of his neck.  

"i missed you." there's no way a sentence like that would come off wrong. jacob squirms (probably because sangyeon's breath hits his skin when he mutters the words). a lot of things can be said - sangyeon imagines him saying them. " _i know_ ", quiet and understanding. " _i missed you too_ ", with an urgent press on his firm hold. " _is everything okay?_ ", if he wants to start a hopefully long conversation. 

"i waited for you," he answers in the exact same tone. 

furthermore, there was no need to speak beyond than that - first, because sangyeon was clearly more interested in translating his words into actions. second, because that's what jacob would've done too, in his place. so instead of recalling the throbbing, fluttering warmth of that hand holding several weeks ago and going on about how deprived of attention the span of that single action and the spark of joy burning his stomach earlier that day made him feel, he silently thanked whoever was the entity in charge of his life for that brief moment of pure, unguarded, unpretencious form of solicitude. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i probably shouldn't say that because then it will make this thing more self-indulgent than it already is but. consider washing your s/o's hair as an act of pure love and adoration. peace


End file.
